


Worry and Fear

by the5leggedCricket



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s05e10 The Kindness of Strangers, Gen, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5leggedCricket/pseuds/the5leggedCricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Merlin lost consciousness before he could call Kilgharrah, and succumbed to his wounds instead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic Morgana didn't burn Finna's body.  
> Also, the note with the prophecy on in is plain Old English, because, let's face it, no matter whose hands it fell in, it was going to get deciphered either way.

When Gaius told Arthur (who might or might not have stormed into the physician’s chambers in search of his manservant. Again.) that Merlin was gathering herbs, Arthur was not pleased, and one might even say a little worried. After all, Gaius – the same man who had warned Arthur there was a dangerous sorceress at large – had just cheerfully told him Merlin was alone in the woods, where this sorceress was roaming freely in all likelihood, and that he probably would be for another day. When Arthur pointed this out, Gaius stayed relatively unworried.

(“He took his sword with him, Sire.”

“That’s even worse! He’s a danger to himself at the best of times. With a weapon, he’s a walking disaster!”)

Gaius’ only reaction to this was a lengthy explanation on why the herbs were extremely important and why a refill was a matter of utmost urgency. Arthur quickly fled the room, decided to make do without manservant for the rest of the day, and shoved his worries aside.

 

When the next day the knights came back from patrol, and Leon mentioned coming across Merlin, his worries – that had flared up now and again – were quelled more or less. They disappeared completely when, at Arthur’s casual enquiring, Leon explained how Mordred had escorted him back to the bridge. Of course, if Merlin had just gone back to his duties this morning as he was supposed to, Arthur’s mind would have put to ease a lot sooner. Arthur was going to have a stern talk with him about work duties suffering under the laziness of useless manservants.

Having dismissed his knights, Arthur strode through the hallways, pretending not to notice how servants and maidens nervously stepped aside to make room for his clear anger. Of course, the reason why he was so angry, was Merlin’s unreliability, and not the concern he’d felt and that had been proven totally unnecessary. If Merlin wanted a day off so badly, didn’t he know he just had to ask? Or if there was an urgent errand he had to run for Gaius, was a simple warning too much to ask? That way, Arthur could just appoint a temporary replacement and Merlin’s duties wouldn’t be left unattended to. And Arthur wouldn’t waste precious time fretting over his unaccounted for absence.

Arthur didn’t break pace until he was stood before the physician’s chambers. He knocked loudly and, for the second time in two days, swung the door open, yelling,

“Merlin!”

Gaius looked up from his worktable, clearly not impressed with his discourteous entrance that might have been a bit dramatic. Not that Arthur would ever admit as much. He had a reputation to uphold.

“Gaius, where is he?”

“Who, Sire?” Gaius’ tone was too polite. Probably just to emphasise the rudeness of Arthur’s abrupt arrival.

“Merlin, of course.”

“In the woods, gathering herbs.” Definitely too polite and patient. Arthur felt like a child that was a bit slow.

“My men say they encountered him yesterday.” Gaius’ eyebrow rose in surprise. “Mordred dropped him off at the bridge last night.”

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen him since he left yesterday,” Gaius said, sounding flustered.

As he stalked out of the room, Arthur told himself that the churning feeling in his stomach was not worry. He couldn’t quite convince himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur walked to the knights' quarters, trying to smooth his face into a blank mask. It wouldn’t do to show his worry. Word travelled fast, he knew, and if anyone thought something was amiss, panic could spread through the castle in no time.

The citizens of Camelot had enough on their minds already, with Morgana still forming a threat. No need to add to the tension by uncontrolled facial expressions.

As he rounded the corner, Arthur almost bumped into his youngest knight.

“Mordred!” he exclaimed. “Just the man I was looking for.”

“Sire?”

Arthur decided to get straight to the heart of the matter. No point in beating around the bush, wasting precious time, when his manservant might be in danger. “Merlin’s missing.”

Mordred seemed taken aback by this. As was to be expected, of course. Merlin was an important member of the staff, whose life had been entrusted in his hands. To hear that he had disappeared, Arthur now knew from personal experience, was a surprise. And an unpleasant one at that.

“I need to know exactly how far you escorted Merlin.”

The knight hesitated. He bit his lower lip, eyes flitting away from Arthur.

“Mordred, where did you drop him off?”

“Sire…” His gaze flickered back to Arthur’s face. “I… I didn’t.”

Arthur didn’t immediately register the words properly. Did Mordred just say…?

“You what?”

He was ashamed to admit it, but he lost his posture and had his voice always been that high? But no, other thoughts fought their way towards the forefront of his mind. If Mordred hadn’t dropped Merlin off, then what had happened to him? And why would Mordred lie about it? Arthur felt so confused; he must have misheard Mordred.

“I didn’t. Sire.” And Mordred, the knight who had been brave enough to stand up to Morgana, to stab her in the back not so long ago, looked _scared_. Scared of Arthur. Of his reaction. As he well should be.

Arthur gritted his teeth. A muscle popped in his jaw. “Explain yourself. Now.”

“You see, he, Merlin that is, he tried to sneak off. Of course I stopped him. But then he said he had to do something. Matter of life and death. That I had to let him go and he knew what he was doing? He was… very convincing.”

Arthur bet he had been. That was the worst part of it. He couldn’t blame Mordred. From past experience, he knew how convincing Merlin could be when he really wanted something. And hadn’t Arthur given into him as well, time after time?

Still, that didn’t mean Arthur was going to let Mordred off so easily. His manservant was missing, and Mordred was going to hold responsibility.

“When was this?”

“Last night. I had first watch. That’s how I caught him.” Arthur nodded. It was as he’d expected then. This was when, according to the rest of the knights, Mordred had lead Merlin to the bridge. He’d found it strange that a knight would abandon his guarding duties to give a servant a ride to the castle, but then again, stranger things had happened. In fact, ‘strange’ was the perfect word to describe Merlin.

“He was on foot?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Did he still have his sword with him?”

“Indeed he did, Sire.”

“Good. What direction did he go?”

“He went eastwards, Sire.”

Mordred was looking at him anxiously, clearly expecting the punishment he so well deserved.

“You’re staying here. And you better hope nothing has happened to Merlin.” A stronger reprimand would follow once they were back, but for now, Arthur had no time to lose.

He set forth his way to the knights’ quarters and afterwards to the armoury, quickly gathering all of the knights he’d sent in search of the sorceress. He told them the bare minimum, not wanting to waste any more time, but still Gwaine could read between the knights easily enough to get furious.

“I swear to God, if anything has happened to Merlin—”

“I know,” Arthur said, “he’ll pay.”

“Dearly.”

With a nod to Gwaine in understanding, Arthur turned to the rest of the knights. “Get ready, we leave in 10 minutes.”


	3. Chapter 3

They left the courtyard in 8 minutes.

 

As Arthur’s second-in-command, Leon took the lead. The pace he set was slow compared to the pace Arthur wanted to go at, but there was no real reason why they should make hurry, was there? After all, it wasn’t the first time Merlin had gone off to only God knew where without letting Arthur know beforehand. Only a few weeks ago he had disappeared for two whole days to visit his girlfriend that Arthur hadn’t even known existed. A girlfriend, _Merlin_. Miracles truly existed.

Now that he thought of it… “If we have been worr—wasting valuable resources because Merlin has snuck off to visit his girlfriend again, I’m putting him in the stocks for a week!”

“His girlfriend?”

“So he hasn’t told you either?” Secretly, Arthur was glad at this. It might have slightly hurt him to discover Merlin had been keeping secrets from him, but if he hadn’t even told Gwaine…

He smirked. This was going to be fun.

“Told us what, Princess? What do you know that we don’t?”

“He left without telling anyone – not even Gaius. We had to hear from Gwen that he was off to see his girlfriend. When he came back he was limping. Limping! I tell you, that boy has hidden depths you don’t even want to know about.”

The knights all laughed uproariously at that, Gwaine loudest of them all. Oh, Merlin was going to be teased without mercy when they finally found him.

After that, the tension was broken, and they all relaxed.

 

“So this is the place?”

To the untrained eye, it looked just the same as any other random part in the woods. His men were trained well and knew how to cover their tracks. There wasn’t even a trace left of the fire that had kept them warm throughout the night.

“Yes, Sire.” Again Leon spoke without any hesitation. He’d led them here, confidence clear in his every step.

“Mordred said he’d gone eastwards.”

And sure enough, about 5 seconds later Percival spotted the broken twigs and trampled mud that screamed to everyone with bad intentions – of which there were too many in Camelot lately – ‘ _Follow me. I’m a lone, helpless traveller, just begging to get mugged or worse,_ killed _!’_

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This way.”

Everyone mounted their horse, following Arthur. He rode as fast as he could without losing sight of Merlin’s track – not that that would be very difficult. As soon as they got back to Camelot, he was going to teach Merlin a thing or two about stealth. Or better yet, just doing what he was told _and not run off when there were dangerous sorcerers at large._


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was already well past its highest point when the tracks lead them to a disturbing scene.

At first, Arthur didn’t even realise it. They’d been travelling for hours on end and Arthur had started to ponder on the time it had taken for Merlin to get this far on foot. He must’ve travelled through the night and then some, with only his sword and with some luck that Arthur didn’t dare hope for, a single water skin. Damn Merlin and his lack of self-preservation! If bandits didn’t get to him first, he’d probably get lost and die of dehydration or something else that could’ve been easily prevented if he’d just stayed where he was supposed to be – under the protection of very capable knights.

But before he could start devising new ways of punishing Merlin for his idiocy, Arthur was pulled out of his own mind when he suddenly noticed the corpses.

There were three of them, dressed in the latest fashion for mercenaries: dark cloaks and some body armour. All three still had their sword in their hands, one even lying close to his crossbow. They’d gone down fighting. Except that there were no wounds on their bodies. _Sorcery_.

His heart clenched. What the hell had Merlin gotten himself into? The place was filled with tracks of men and horses and there were three men dead. There must’ve been some sort of magical fight - or at least magical on one side - but the question was: had Merlin been involved? Something akin to fear began to flood through his body and evaporate into a cold sweat.

“Sire!”

Pellinore was holding something in his hand. Arthur stepped closer for closer inspection and realised it was a bloodied arrow. Someone had been hit.

“Scour the place,” he ordered his men. “See if you can find something else.”

However, nothing new was discovered. Apparently, there were a lot of different trails, but, as Arthur soon determined, there was only one that lead away from the place. With his heart in his throat, he climbed on his horse, and lead his men along the new trail.

This time, they didn’t ride nearly as long. Arthur’s best guess was that someone had been wounded and sought shelter for which they had to walk the bare minimum. Or it was all an elaborate trap to get the knights of Camelot in an abandoned tower, but somehow, he doubted that. Either way, here they were, stealthily climbing stairs that were smudged with blood, following the red-brown spots dutifully like a bird would a trail of breadcrumbs. And he didn’t like it one bit. For one, it was too silent. They’d been able to deduce that the group with horses had left already, but why would they have made a stop here? Someone had obviously been badly wounded. And if his hunch was correct, they hadn’t made it out alive. But what was Merlin’s part in all this? Was he still with the group? As a captive? Or was he still in this dark, cold building that made shivers creep up Arthur’s spine?

They reached the first floor. Empty. The boards creaked under their weight. They were covered in dust and even more blood. Arthur went on.

On the second floor they found the corpse of a woman. Lamorak, Leon, and Percival all gasped.

“The witch.”

Leon inclined his head politely. “She’s the sorceress that escaped us, Sire.”

Arthur kneeled next to her, and studied the body. “She’s dead,” he confirmed. She’d clearly impaled herself, but he couldn’t find an arrow wound anywhere. “But the blood wasn’t hers.” And that’s when he noticed the handle of the sword still stuck in her body.

His fingers started shaking as he pulled it out. But whatever way he turned it, each angle in the dim light told him the same story. “It’s Merlin’s.”

And just like that, everyone sprung back into action. No one had forgotten for a moment what had caused the impromptu search, but the added riddle of the many footprints and the discovery of the sorceress had temporarily distracted them.

They didn’t look in every nook and cranny as Arthur had more or less suspected. No, instead, Gwaine spotted how the blood trail didn’t stop at the woman’s body, but continued.

Arthur’s voice was gruff when he ordered the knights to stay behind him. Gwaine looked like he wanted to protest, but when Arthur looked him in the eye, showing a weakness he’d kept carefully hidden until now, when his walls were knocked down by the worry and fear, Gwaine merely nodded, and took a step back. He was directly at Arthur’s back as he climbed the small stairs leading to the roof.

 

Gwaine was also the first one to fall to his knees, whereas Arthur couldn’t move at all. The sight had his world crumbling to dust, until there was nothing left but this wrecked place, this moment in time. Merlin was… He was lying on his back, surrounded by his blood. There was so much blood. It had soaked the wood under their feet and turned Merlin’s tunic into something unrecognizable. He was stiller and quiet than Arthur had thought possible. The lack of motion and sound was weird coming from Merlin. It disturbed him, didn’t feel right at all. He wanted to take back all the times he’d told Merlin to shut up, to get him talking and moving again. Or to tell him to stop lazing about, he’d had quiet enough rest, the day off he’d taken without permission, without even asking, was over. To get off of his lazy arse, and water the poor horses that had been riding all day. But he couldn’t so much as open his mouth. All he could do, was stand there and stare until this cruel blinking contest was over, and Merlin would take a shuddering breath, groan, and start complaining as soon as he’d regained consciousness. Arthur lost several times, Merlin’s eyes fixed in an eternal gaze at the starless sky.

The only movement came from the knights, who were entering the scene one by one, some of them joining Gwaine, trying to find a heartbeat or breath left in his lungs. The others looked sadly at Arthur, already knowing the answer. Merlin. He was dead. Arthur had been too late to save him. Hadn’t even known he needed saving.

His knees gave out under him, and he hung his head in defeat. The one time his friend had depended on him, and Arthur had failed him. What kind of king was he, if he couldn’t even keep those closest to him safe? What was his purpose? Did he even have one if there was no one to share it with? No one to make all the sacrifices worth it, to share this burden with, who understood the hard choices he had to make and who was proud when he made the right one? Did he even have one when he didn’t have his best friend here, with him, offering his shoulder to lean on, instead being the reason why Arthur needed the support in the first place? What was left for him, when the most important person was gone?

And then Leon gave him the answer. He handed him a note, saying, “He was holding this, Sire.”

 

_Let loose the hounds of war._  
_Let the dread fire of the last priestess reign down from angry skies._  
_For brother will slaughter brother._  
_For friend will murder friend._  
_As the great horn sounds, a cold dawn at Camlann._  
_The prophets do not lie._  
_There Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain._


	5. Chapter 5

He has finally arrived at the foot of the scene that’s laid out for him. Two armies about to confront, both lead by a Pendragon. Both fighting for freedom and revenge, neither having left anything to lose. This is where the final battle will end and a new era will begin. Camlann.

Here he will be reunited with Merlin.

Arthur raises his sword and his voice.

“For the love of Camelot!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback welcome.


End file.
